


One Night

by SeaofSin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dry Humping, F/M, First Dates, First Kisses, Flashbacks, Love Confessions, Memories, Partially Clothed Sex, Sibling Incest, Twincest, nervous confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaofSin/pseuds/SeaofSin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One night. That's all I ask. One night to be held by the one I love most, to be loved by the man I want to spend my life with. If you cannot give me forever, at least give me this."</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maxicest_and_rebekol_love](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxicest_and_rebekol_love/gifts).



There's something to be said about the night air of a cool fall evening, Wanda thinks. Beside her, she sees her companion. David, his name was, a fairly tall, kind young man who had taken a liking to her this past year since she and Pietro had joined the Avengers. A week ago, he had approached her, asking her if he could take her on a date, and Wanda had politely agreed, having a small interest in him as well. Pietro had protested, he always would whenever anyone took too much of an interest in her, but Wanda simply shrugged him off.

Now she is walking beside David, and he's smiling at her as he walks her home after their dinner. As they approach her door, she pauses, standing in front of the stairwell as she looks him over.

"I had a nice time tonight. Thank you," she says finally, smiling softly at him. He was a kind boy, she wouldn't protest that thought, but something about this felt wrong, as though she were betraying something inside of her.

"I had a nice time too, Wanda. Thanks for letting me take you out..." he replies, retuning the smile. "Perhaps we could do it again some time?"

He seems so hopeful, and as uncertain she feels about this, she agrees.

Ever so slowly, he leans in, giving her every chance to pull away. He kisses her, his lips warm against hers, and her eyes widen, her mind no longer with him, but back to when she was ten years old.

There they were, under the bed, Wanda shivering in his arms as they observe the unexploded shell stare them in the face, threatening to take their lives away at any given moment, each shift in the fallen bricks singing of the danger, of their imminent death.

Wanda is terrified, fearing her life is already at its end, and turns to him, eyes wide. "Pietro. I don't want to die... There is so much I have to do. I have not yet visited beyond the walls of Sokovia, I have not yet seen a beach, or worn a swimsuit, I have not yet had my first kiss... There is so much I have yet to do, and I am going to die without experiencing it!"

"Sister, calm. There is no dying tonight. You're not dying, you're safe," he mumbles in broken English, hoping to soothe her nerves.

"There is always dying," she says simply as she burrows her face into his shoulder, attempting to block out the rest of the world: the calamity of police sirens in the distance, the sounds of bricks tumbling, the raucous barks of trapped dogs below.

Pietro lightly shakes his head at this. "Not for us."

Her eyes narrow a bit. "You do not mean that."

"Perhaps not. My English is not so good, yeah? I don't always know what I mean when we talk like this. Your English is much better. Better learner in school," Pietro said, tapping the end of her nose with his index finger.

Wanda feels she can almost smile at that, but immediately shakes off the thought, swapping her speech back to Romanian. "Pietro... I know you are trying to make me smile, but I cannot. I am scared... What if we die here tonight? So little I've done..."

"Calm now, there will be plenty of time for you to fulfill those dreams, I promise," he whispers soothingly, rubbing her back and twining his fingers through the ends of her matted hair, combing them gently.

"And if there isn't?" she asks with a squeak, nervously trembling against him as the sounds of the bricks tumbling grows a bit louder.

He doesn't answer her, uncertain what to say, before he leans in, pressing his nose against hers. His breath was hot over her skin as he inched closer, and arm tightening around her shoulders as he pressed the briefest of kisses to her mouth, just barely there, before immediately pulling back. Before she can even ask him why, the sounds of people, calling out for survivors rings out. They're safe.

She says nothing to David as her thoughts jolt back to reality, instead waving him off before rushing inside, heart thrumming heavily in her chest.

She's all but forgotten about that memory, willfully pushing it to the back of her mind.

For a moment, her mind is reeling, and she falls against the nearest kitchen chair, trying to catch her breath.

It was that night under the bed that she realized she had fallen in love with him, with her own brother, and it was that night that she had known he was in love with her too. And that scared her. So she repressed it, neither of them ever mentioning the event again. She tried to move on, tried to forget that rather earth shaking revelation, but the nervous, yet happy thrumming in her heart right now at the mere memory was more than enough evidence against the very notion. She is still in love with him, still needs him more than she is willing to admit. At the time, she had attempted to sweep it under the rug as simple childish foolishness, as desperation for any kind of human contact, and had misconstrued brotherly affection for something deeper. Now? Now she isn't quite so sure how much she is willing to believe that thought.

Hands trembling, she steadies her breath, looking across the room at her brother's closed bedroom door. With quick strides, she makes her way across the room, and carefully knocks at his door. She needs to speak with him, she needs to confess. "Pietro?" she whispers gently, leaning her ear against the door. "Pietro? Are you in there?"

There's the sound of muffled speech replying, and the noises of shuffling feet against the carpet before the door is flung open, revealing her rather disheveled looking brother, who sweeps his hair out of his eyes as he asks "What's wrong? Was your date okay?"

Wanda wonders if she's imaging the bitter undertones in his question. "No, the date was fine... Just fine, nothing incredible. Can I come in? I- I have something to ask you," she says quietly, peeking in to his dark room.

Nodding, he flicks the light on, and welcomes her inside with a sweep of his arm, gesturing towards the bed.

Cautiously, Wanda moves to his bed, settling herself on the edge, and pats the spot next to her, which Pietro promptly takes. "Pietro, I've been thinking... Do you remember those two days under the bed?" she asks, chewing her lip.

"I don't think I could forget a single second. It was the most horrifying experience I've ever had. And I was shot with forty eight bullets," Pietro replies, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, a habit he always had used when he was trying to wake up.

"Do you remember those last few minutes specifically?" she asks, looking into his sleepy eyes. "When I was scared about all of the things I never did, that I thought I would never get to do? Do you remember?"

Pietro seemingly jolts awake at this, and his head snaps up, his eyes wide. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I do. I remember it now. I remember that I was worried I would never be kissed. I remember that you kissed me," she continues, her hands shaking lightly with anxiousness. "I remember I wasn't sure what to say, I remember I promised myself I would never think about that again, and I promised myself I would never fall in love with you."

"Wanda-"

"I realized that I never did keep that last promise... I realize that I couldn't stop myself from wanting what I wanted most. And I don't want to any longer. I'm in love with you. I have been, for a long time now. I didn't want to be in love with you, I tried to suppress my feelings for you, but it seems that my love for you is stronger than that," she says.

"What are you saying, Wanda?" he asks, eyes wide, almost fearful of what was going to come next.

"I'm saying I want to be with you. I want to love you, share the rest of our lives together, build a family. I want to kiss you, hold you, share everything. And deep down, I know you want this too, my love, I know that you feel the same. I want to make love to you," she whispers lovingly, tracing his cheeks with her fingertips before she let her thumb run over the bridge of his lips. "Please, make love to me. I want to show you just how much I need you, how much I love you."

Pietro is shocked, and moves his head from her touch, lower lip quivering and eyes blown wide. "Wanda, we can't... We can't. You deserve better," he breathes, digging his fingers into his legs.

"Can you not see that I would be proud of being with you, that I would be honored to be seen as your lover? I do not care for their jeering or their disdain, I care only for the love we share. Is that not enough for you?" she replies, chewing her lip and shifting towards him.

Pietro frowns, idly watching his tapping fingers and avoiding her gaze. "Wanda, you're far better than I deserve. I could never give you what you are worthy of. You are worthy of so much, and all I could bring you is the hatred of others who would not understand and shame-"

She cuts him off with a wave of her hand. "Brother, I don't care if they understand. They do not matter, their judgements don't concern me. You matter. Would you be the one to deny us what we want most simply because of them? Their shallow hearts and minds unable to comprehend the bond we've created... You believe that concerns me?" she whispers harshly, digging her nails into his bedsheets.

"Wanda, you're asking me to have sex with you. It's bad enough we both love each other in this way... We could never share our love in public- they'd practically go out of their ways to make our lives miserable- or have children- just imagine what the world would say to them, treating them as monsters. Wanda, I want you to be able to have a life, to have a family of your own, a husband who you can proudly stand by in public and share your life with, and not have to fear the disgust of others. I can't possibly have sex with you, that would be admitting to this love, admitting that I want you for myself, that I would be selfish, and not want to see you with another," he says, burying his face in his hands.

"Who is to say we can't have those things? I love you, Pietro. There are no other words to say it: I love you. And I always have. I'm not running from it. Not anymore," she murmurs as she runs a hand down his arm, coming to rest over the back of his knuckles.

"I love you too, but that is beside the point. I love you, and I shouldn't. It isn't right to you," he whispers, refusing to look at her, eyes squeezed shut.

"This isn't about right and wrong, brother, this is about what I feel for you, and what I know you feel for me too," she says, clasping his hand tightly in her own, her free hand coming to trace over the curve of his jaw. "I refuse to fight it anymore. I don't want to act as though I don't feel so strongly for you, not just as my brother, but as my soulmate. You're everything to me, you always have been."

Pietro's eyes opened, wide with frustration. "Wanda, I can't. I _can't_. I can't bring myself to purposely ruin your life. I'm selfish, but I can't do that to you. I love you too much to hurt you like that," he said sternly, attempting to pull his hands away.

"I don't care! It doesn't matter! You're not ruining my life, you're not ruining anything, you're afraid!" she shouts, angered tears threatening to spill as they prick at the corners of her eyes.

"Wanda, Wanda... I love you, I love you, and I can't do this to you. I can't bring myself to ruin your life, I can't bring myself to make you one of the most hated people alive. I just can't! I want them to love you as much as I do! You deserve better," he whispers, his voice almost horrified. "It hurts, it hurts to see you going on dates, and getting flirted with by other men, but it's better than knowing I've acted on what I felt for you, and ruined everything."

There's a cracking sensation in her heart, as though it began to shatter into thousands of irreparable pieces. "Pietro, nobody has to know. It can be between you and I, our little secret. I just don't want to deny this anymore. I need you more than I can ever say," Wanda says, interlocking their fingers together, bringing their joint hands up to her lips so she could press a tender kiss to his knuckles.

Neither speaks, instead, playing with the other's fingers in a quiet fear of what would come next. Wanda is the first to break the quiet stillness, and offers a compromise. There would be no convincing him, he's always been stubborn, but perhaps if they could meet half way... "One night. That's all I ask. One night to be held by the one I love most, to be loved by the man I want to spend my life with. If you cannot give me forever, at least give me this," she says, softly, keeping her eyes locked on his.

He's silent for a moment, watching her with a cautious glance. He wants her, she knows this much. It's evident in his eyes, she doesn't even need to have her gifts to see it. She's frankly surprised she hasn't noticed it before: the looks he gave her, the love he exhibited in everything he did for her. Gently, she reminds herself it wasn't that she didn't notice, but rather that she had purposely ignored the thought, repressing it. For a moment, she wonders if she's been reading it wrong, based on how quiet he is, how he doesn't respond, but the thought is gone as soon as he speaks.

"One night," he relents. "But we won't have 'real sex'. I can't do that to you. We can just fool around, find something nice."

Wanda didn't even notice she was holding her breath, not until she sighs. "I suppose that's fine," she agrees, a wry smile on her lips.

Tonight only, he would be hers. And she supposed that was enough.

Tonight, he makes himself known to her. Tonight, he watches her strip herself bare, leaving only the thin fabric of her panties, as per his request, observes every subtle movement of her body as she lets her gown drop. Tonight, he settles himself at the foot of his bed, seats himself at the opening of her ankles, watches her face as she presses her hands over her skin, trailing down her arms, up her chest, over her breasts, where she palms the full flesh, gasping at the flames igniting beneath her skin, at the look of pure reverence he gives her before leaning in to kiss her.

She cries, she burns beneath his hands, the sensations new and exciting. Wanda hungers for more, guilty of only this sin, everything else paling in comparison. Is it sin? Wanda thinks not, though all thought has left her as the press of his soft lips against the curve of her throat, a simple, quick kiss. She delights in the possessive press of his fingers against her hips, cries aloud at the light scrape of his teeth over her collarbones.

His breathing is rough, heavy, and she can sense his desire for her in the way his palms tighten against her waist, the way he suppresses a moan against her skin, the noise silenced but the vibrations of the sound against her flesh palpable.

The hushed whisper of his belt being pulled off and dropped to the floor fills the room, the equally quiet sounds of the trousers being shucked follows. His cloth covered hips come to rest against her own, their heated bodies craving more. They can't have it, they can't have each other fully, not in the way they want, but she hungers all the same. Protesting, asking for that part of him would be fruitless. So she contents herself with this, with the lock of his hips in this proximity.

Wordlessly, their eyes lock, their lips meet, their bodies begin to move, the faint sound of fabrics brushing against fabric more musical to her ears than any record, any choir. He's hard beneath his garment, hot, aching for her as she aches for him. She can sense this much. The darkening of his eyes as he observes her, the hitch in his breath... everything speaks of his affection for her, of his lust. She whines, arching her hips, angling herself to feel as much as possible in this scenario. She wants him inside of her, she wants him in every way. For now, this will have to suffice.

For now, this is perfect, yet never enough. Never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

She feels greedy, wanting. Lust floods her senses, her eyes slipping closed as his breath warms her skin, her hips brushing against his own, encouraging his little thrusts against the seat of her panties with little gasps and clenching fingers in his hair, asking for more.

Harder. Faster. More. More. More.

His hot tongue slips into her mouth, sliding against her own, teasing her. She's suppressed her desire for his kiss, suppressed her desire for his flesh, and now, she allows herself to be consumed wholly by it, allowing herself to give into the temptation her brother has created, even if only in this form.

The light glide of his hips, the grinding of his clothed cock against the most sensitive part of her body, all pushes her towards something she's only explored in the dark, alone and wanting. She's quiet, she's breathing slowly, gazing upon the beloved visage of her brother through half-lidded eyes. This is all so clandestine, she feels, with both of them acting as though it were somehow wrong, when they both know this is the most _right_ they've felt in ages.

Her nails dig into his back, her breathing grows labored as she moves against him, a soft cry parting her lips as he manages to find a sensitive spot, and repeats the motion. A sharp breath follows as she bucks in response, their hips colliding perfectly together.

He pushes, and she responds with another thrust, desperate to drive him as mad as he was doing to her. Her legs wobble against his side, her knees desperately sliding over his hips to draw him closer, heels digging into the small of of his back, needing him to keep as much contact as possible, wishing that he was inside of her. His responding grunt ignites her skin, stokes the already raging fire in her belly, and she echoes, a feral, unrecognizable sound escaping her lips and echoing throughout the dark room. Pietro's fingers clench at the sound, digging into her shoulder, the others at her hip, crushing her as close as he can manage. There would be bruises, like a map of where his hands had been on her that night, and the thought excites her. The knowledge that there would be irrefutable, tangible proof on her skin of this makes her happier than she could ever say.

All thought is gone as he snakes a hand between them, clumsily searching across the fabric of her panties for her clit, and rubbing small circles over it once he manages to locate it. She's gone, whimpering with inarticulate words of desire tumbling endlessly from her lips. She shakes, pleasure licking through her body, zapping through her heavy veins like lightning. Her fingers clench in his shoulders, her mouth parts as she takes in a heavy gasp, her eyes closing as she comes in crashing waves.

Pietro's breath falls heavy and hot over her face as he watches her, eyes half-lidded and sparkling in the light of the moon filtering in through the window, illuminating the both of them. A quiet creak of the mattress follows as he begins to move faster, seeking his own release now. Soft, encouraging strokes of her fingers across his hips brought soft groans from her twin, and his body shakes as he begins to come. He spills, dampening the front of his undergarments with his release and buries his face in her shoulder, half collapsing on her, catching himself at the final second on his forearms.

For a moment, they are silent, save for their heavy breaths filling the night air. The only thing he says is "I love you," sealing his words with a kiss before he slides off of her, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his soiled boxers. He removes the garment and walks off to his hamper to drop it in, his back side barely visible in the low light. Faint red marks decorate his back from the scrape of her nails in the heat of passion. Slowly, she slides off the bed, slipping off her panties and gathering her discarded dress in her arms, silently moving to his side so she can deposit her clothes into his hamper.

Wordlessly, he moves behind her, lightly kissing her ear, enticing her to turn towards him. Wanda's palms come to rest on his chest, lightly tracing the firm muscles with gentle finger tips. She listens to his calmed breath, feels the warm puffs of air over her face as leans towards her, as his nose lightly brushes the curve of her cheek. Curiously, she explores him, and he allows her, his half-lidded eyes full of nothing but sheer adoration for his twin. Words are no longer needed, their gentle actions speaking volumes louder than any words ever could hope to. The sweet caress of his fingertips over her shoulders, the meandering of her hands over the planes of his chest, mapping each dip, each little scar... nothing has felt so quietly perfect to Wanda.

Pietro's gentle caress travels up her neck, his palm cups her face, his thumb traces the curve of her cheek. A sweeping sense of dread coils in her belly, to know that only one night she would know this, that only one night he would ever hold her like this, look at her like this.

"So, I suppose that this is the end then," Wanda whispers, afraid to see that their promised one night has drawn to a close.

Pietro simply shakes his head, causing his shaggy hair to fall over his eyes, a dopey smile coming across his lips as he leans in closer, his lips barely brushing her own and his fingers lightly looping with her own. "No, this is only the beginning."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for maxicest_and_rebekol_love, who requested Wanda going on her first date, and her first kiss triggers a memory of Pietro and her under the bed, where he kissed her to help calm her down, and she decides she needs him and asks him to sleep with her.


End file.
